


Paper Dolls

by BoxWineConfessions



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Isabella fucks Otabek with a strap on, Jealousy, Multi, Panty Gag, Yuri sits on JJ's face, established poly relationship, it's really all about how JJ and Otabek are in love but super repressed about it, testing boundaries in a poly relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxWineConfessions/pseuds/BoxWineConfessions
Summary: "You’re just doing that thing that you and Otabek do. You only want something if the other’s got it."Or: Otabek loves Yuri, and Otabek wants Isabella. JJ loves Isabella, and JJ is enamored with Yuri. What they both like most of all, is what the other one has.





	Paper Dolls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackmountainbones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/gifts).



> A very happy birthday to @blackmountainbones. She's a talented writer, and wonderful human. I'm truly grateful to know her.

_I'm cutting out all my paper dolls_  
_I wonder which one's gonna try to drive me crazy this time_

 _I'm cutting out all my paper dolls_  
_I tried each one but they all, turned out the same,_  
_I'm gonna tear 'em all up and then I'm gonna throw 'em away,_

Otabek tries to take a deep breath. He fails, and the panicked gasp lodges in his chest. He tries once more, but his pounding heart rails the breath against his chest, and traps it there. How many times has Otabek stared at the little numbers on the door, “89 ½” and waited for him to answer the door? ~~His~~ Their flat is on the second story of a older style Victorian home in one of Montreal’s poshest neighborhoods. The streets are lined with little boutiques, and specialty stationery stores, and gastropubs. None of which Otabek has ever cared to go to. These days, when he comes to Montreal, his social calls don't include sight seeing. Unless he's here to skate as well, he rarely sees anything beyond the airport and Leroy's apartment. 

Otabek raises his hand to the door to knock. Immediately, he retracts his hand. Instead, he rubs the freshly clipped edges of his undercut. He never anticipated that it would be this difficult. Otabek rubs down the little flecks of goose flesh that have appeared at the base of his neck.

The temperature is dropping. Whenever the weather changes suddenly like this, he always gets a headache.

He raises his hand once more, determined to make contact with the door this time. Before his knuckles can meet the door, he’s met with the sound slide thunk sound of a chain latch being undone and the face of the woman he’s here to see.

“He’s not here right now,” Bella...That's too informal given the past few years. Isabella Yang says calmly. Otabek can’t remember the last time he’s seen her outside of the kiss and cry at a distance, or social media, or on sports highlight reels the day after a competition. He can’t remember the last time they’ve spoken. He gets updates from Leroy while he searches for his own discarded clothes.

Her eyes are pulled tight in a furrowed line. Her lips are thin, and they ask a silent question, “why are you here?” She holds this stern expression for mere seconds.

Otabek swallows the knot in his throat, and feels the seconds, thick and obtuse slide between them. After what feels like hours, he finally tells her the truth, “I’m here to see you actually.”

As they stand there, trapped in awkward silence, her expression gradually softens. Her lips pull into a soft half smile. Her eyes radiate the same kind of warmth that he remembers from lifetimes ago. It’s the kind of look that shakes Otabek to the core, and makes him want to retreat far faster than her look of annoyance ever did.

* * *

 

JJ knocks on the door of the apartment without hesitation. It’s in one of those bland, but modern high rise complexes that have filled up the downtown district recently. Otabek had given him the address to their Air BnB with the sole intention of JJ coming to see him, but he doesn’t think twice about showing up uninvited. His only regret is that he did not bring an umbrella. The air is thick and humid. The temperature has dropped rapidly on his walk over. If his princess takes awhile to come around, he risks getting soaked.

JJ isn’t above waiting outside and wearing Yuri down. Maybe that would be convincing for Yuri, romantic even, to find him soaked on his door step.

He can hear furious stomping inside. Then, the door slides open, but only by a crack. “He’s not here asshole.”

“I didn’t come here to see him, Sweetheart,” and he makes sure to flash a grin with just enough tooth. Plisetsky seems to like that. No matter how much he curses and how much he swears, JJ’s grin never fails to make Yuri blush. It’s funny. Someone who claims to never be impressed is the easiest of them all to actually impress.

“Is this about him not letting you fuck him?” Yuri asks through gritted teeth.

JJ perks up. Good he doesn’t have to explain himself much. “This is about our arrangement. We all agreed that-”

“Oh my god it fucking is,” Yuri shouts in a fury of half chewed syllables. The door slams shut in his face.

* * *

 

Despite the fact that his heart is pounding in his chest, and his palms feel like open faucets that drip sweat, Otabek goes through the motions as if nothing is wrong. He’s calm, collected, and ready to seduce. However, he’s more than willing to be seduced.

Isabella offers to make him tea. He declines. There is no need for small talk or formality. It’s quite clear why he’s here.

It was clear years ago when he wasn’t a stranger in this town, and Montreal was home. They waited for her after classes together, and kissed each other while they waited for her. They walked her home together, and afterward they’d go to Otabek’s host parents’ house. They didn’t get home until late. He and Leroy would jerk each other off underneath the throw that his host mother kept on the back of the sofa. They took her to the mall, the arcade, and the park together. For the longest time Leroy carried the assumption that he won.

Otabek knows better. He knows, and moreover she knows, the little secret between just the two of them. The night before her sixteenth birthday, they ran into each other at the little cafe across the street from the private high school the three of them attended. She’d been there all night studying for college entrance exams.

He bought her a coffee: a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso. She told him that she was sleep deprived, and slap happy, but she didn’t want to turn sixteen before having her first kiss. He remembers her lips as being surprisingly chapped. Pretty girls weren’t supposed to have chapped lips. Her breath stank of acrid coffee. Pretty girls weren’t supposed to have bad breath. It was amazing nonetheless.

Otabek didn’t hold this over Leroy. It was better off as a secret. Leory had won, and Otabek was doing just fine. To call Yuri a consolation prize would be shameful. Except...Now that they have this between them, the four of them...Whatever this is...It’s difficult not to think about living out his high school fantasies.

* * *

 

Despite what Plisetsky thought, JJ was not stupid. He knows what his kitten likes. It goes beyond what Otabek tells him in the heat of the moment, when JJ is fucked open and Otabek is greedy. He notices plenty through what he sees on social media, and in the press, and when they’re all together for galas and expo skates. “I brought food,” he beams proudly to the closed door.

There’s nothing but silence for a moment, and then there is the sound of the door unlocking once more. Yuri’s face is obscured by the heavy storm door. Despite this, JJ can still tell that Yuri looks like nothing less than royalty. He’s got on a hoodie that is a size too large. It’s littered with blocky street art letters, and it’s the kind of thing that Otabek likes to wear when he’s not on the ice. His hair is pulled into twin buns on either side of his face.

If he’s wearing anything underneath the sweater, it’s very, very short.

“What did you bring?”

* * *

It’s different this time. With their lips crushed together like this, Otabek can feel the viscous feeling of lipgloss between them. He can taste the thick artificial fruit flavoring. They don’t bump together awkwardly. In fact, it’s almost obscene how naturally they fit together. He threads a hand through her long black hair, and holds her possessively at the base of the neck. His free hand drifts to the base of her spine.

Her hands are icy cold against his chest. Their coolness seeps through his pullover and onto his skin. It’s not lost on him, how she strategically positions her hand so that he can see her engagement ring.

Otabek doesn’t relent, not for a moment. Even when they break for air, he drowns himself in her. Relenting means showing her how scared he really is. He busies himself with undoing the buttons at the back of her shirt. He kisses every inch of her neck that he can reach. As he manipulates the soft sensitive flesh with his mouth, he wonders if she’ll tell him not to leave a mark. He wonders if he’ll listen.

“Something tells me that you’ve wanted this.” She says it with a smirk that she never wore before she started dating Leroy. He’s changed her. It’s okay. She’s changed him to, and for the better. Leroy was never cruel before, but now he’s far more considerate. “For awhile.”

Otabek works the final button open, and pulls her shirt off. He makes quick work of her bra. Then, he indulges himself on every bit of skin he can find. Each new patch of skin is deemed his favorite. Then, he moves on to another with unbridled greed: her collar bones pale in comparison to the flat of her stomach, the flat of her stomach is nothing compared to her breasts. But why compare when she’s allowing him everything?

Otabek sinks to his knees. He all but buries his face into her clothed mound. He wraps his arms around her hips. One hand grabbing and kneading the firm flesh of her ass. The other slowly undoing the zipper on her skirt. “Every day since I left for Almaty.”

* * *

 

“This one is chocolate.” JJ points to a macaron in a gold and red foil wrapper. He almost loses a finger in the process. Yuri shoves the confection into his mouth and eats it all in one bite. “This one is matcha,” and the process is repeated over and over again, “vanilla bean, raspberry, black currant.” Soon, there is nothing left but empty little wrappers.

“Alright,” Yuri wraps one long leg around JJ’s middle, and pulls himself into JJ’s lap. He licks the rest of the icing from his fingers, and then leans in close. So close that JJ can smell the sugar on his breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Yuri licks his lips.

JJ takes it as an invitation. Yuri tastes like sugar.  JJ knows that even if he hadn’t destroyed an entire box of macarons first, he’d still taste sweet. JJ laps first at his lips, and then presses against his tongue, and then the roof of his mouth. Then, he allows his princess to catch his breath.

He’s met by a sharp bite from Yuri at his lower lip. There’s nothing playful or sexy about it. It’s the kind of rough gesture that is meant to push him away. Yuri repeats the action on his neck, but he’s not going anywhere.

Yuri leverages his weight against him, and pushes JJ into his arm rest. He feels boneless and weak as Yuri unashamedly bites his neck and his collar bones. The pressure and the sting ensure that he’ll have marks. Good.

* * *

 

“Ah,” Otabek all but slurs. He’s got Isabella backed up against the wall. He’s seated on the floor between her legs with one hand on her ass. With his other hand, he takes. He teases with his fingers: her clit, and her folds, and her impossibly wet entrance. The position also allows himself to mirror the motions of his hand with his mouth. He can tease her folds with his lips, or breach her with his tongue. Best of all, she makes the most beautiful sounds when he works his fingers inside of her while he alternates the pressure on her clit: barely there licks, childish valentine kisses, and unashamed open mouthed suckling motions.

He’s never done this with a woman before, but if the sounds she’s making are any indication, he must be doing okay. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I want-” but his breath catches in his throat.

“What?” But she doesn’t wait for an answer. She simply pushes his head back down.

Otabek works his mouth and his fingers in tandem until her entire body tenses above him. He does his very best to work her though it. Her body relaxes. Tenses. Relaxes, and then tenses before she trembles against him.

The tight grasp on his hair loosens, and her strength returns once more. When Otabek is no longer holding most of her body weight against the wall, he takes it as silent permission to proceed with his request.

“Fuck me like you fuck him.”

“Oh,” Isabela arches a single coal black brow. “That’s interesting.”

Otabek can’t even bring himself to care that he’s being scrutinized. Her neck is covered in childish love bites, her makeup is smeared, and her eyes are blown wide. It’s impossible to feel shame when he sees her like this. Knowing that he did that to her is almost as intoxicating as standing on the podium above him. He did that to her, not Leroy.

“You don’t let him fuck you.” It’s a statement, not a question. Her tone suggests that she has been told this many times. “But you’ll let me?”

Otabek swallows the lump in his throat and nods. It’s not about the actual act. He’s not so proud, and he’s not so fragile, that he’d deny himself that kind of pleasure. It’s the partner. In the race for medals, they’re almost neck and neck. Leroy got the girl. Otabek got the boy. To Otabek, it is the one place of leverage that he has against Leroy. Regardless of how cold it may seem, he intends to use it against him for as long as possible.

“In the bedroom.” She turns and walks toward the narrow corridor. “Oh, but you can stay on your knees.” She giggles. “I kind of like that.”

* * *

 

JJ’s found the most wonderful little spot on Yuri’s neck. Touching that spot makes Yuri gasp and shake every time he bites down. Touching that spot makes Yuri sigh every time he bathes the abused flesh with soft kisses. With Yuri straddling his lap, JJ is allowed to enjoy what simply must be the best places on his body. He can put his hands around his slim waistline, or indulge himself in the firm flesh of Plisetsky’s ass. A little reaching, and lot of petting reveal that Yuri was wearing underwear underneath the sweater. A little tugging, and a lot of persistence, reveal that they are bright neon pink.

Then, no sooner than he had a good rhythm going, Yuri’s grabbing him by the longer portion of his hair and pulling him off. “Why the fuck me though? Just cause no one else will let you fuck them? You think I’m fucking easy?”

“I think you’re beautiful.” JJ knows that Yuri will rebuff the comment immediately, but it is the truth. JJ immediately found Yuri enthralling from the moment he made his senior debut. However, his desire was doused in accelerant and set on fire the moment that he saw Altin and Plisetsky all over one another after Plisetsky’s expo skate.

“Oh my fucking god,” Yuri lets go of his hair and pushes his head away in disgust. “You’re just doing that thing that you and Otabek do. You only want something if the other’s got it.”

* * *

“Suck,” Isabella says. This time her order is not punctuated with a smirk, but a girlish smile that is filled with kindness. It’s the smile that both he and Leroy fell for back when they were mere children.

Otabek is too love drunk to question anything about it. The toy strapped to Isabella’s crotch tastes of acrid plastic. If he weren’t so enamored with her, he’d tell her how bad it tasted. He'd refuse to put it in his mouth. As it stands, he does his very best to relax his throat and take in as much as he can. If he had any sense to question any of this, he’d know that everything that she got out of this was psychological. There was no need to push himself so hard. There was no need to take in as much of the toy as possible until he gagged on it.

Oh, but the satisfied smirk she gives urges him on.

If he weren’t completely gone, he’d question the size of the toy. It’s larger than his own cock. It’s far larger than anything he’s ever had inside of his own body.

He doesn’t question any of it. Every second that he services Isabella makes him burn hotter and hotter for whatever it is that she is willing to give him. Otabek reaches for his own cock. He's desperate for a fraction of the pleasure and the attention that he’s given Isabella.

“Beka,” her voice alone feels like a heavy hand that tugs him by the base of the cock. “Don’t touch yourself. That spoils the fun.”

* * *

“I didn’t stutter Princess.” JJ carried him to the bedroom, dumped him onto the mattress, and demanded what he wanted. That was JJ style after all. “Sit on my face.”

“What the fuck?”

JJ peels the oversized sweater away, and makes short work of his own clothes. He makes sure to give Plisetsky a show. He undoes his shirt buttons slowly. He pulls his pants down over his ass, and then he turns around slowly. Revealing his dick last. Sure Altin was built, but like in most things in life, he came up short.

Yuri moves into position over his face. “You make it hard to hate you sometimes.”

* * *

Isabella coats her fingers with lube. She presses one in first, and then waits for what felt like hours to press in a second. She scissors him open with wide motions of her fingers. Thrusting in and out, they make an obscene squelching noise. It makes Otabek want to cover his own ears.

She waits until the sounds no longer embarrass him. She waits until he cannot stifle the deep and unapologetic moans that blossom in his chest and creep out between parted lips. Then, she moves onto a third. Then, when he feels impossibly full, a fourth.

It still hurts when she pushes inside. When she grabs his hips and lined up the toy, she laces her free hand between his fingers. While she holds his hand tenderly, she thrusts in brutally. In that moment, he realizes that her hands were impossibly small. The toy was comically large.

“Bella,” the name slipped out between sweat soaked skin and soaked through sheets.

“Beka,” she chuckles against his neck. Not giving him much time to adjust, she rocks against him gently. It tears a groan from deep within and makes his chest rumble like thunder. Her cock is too much too soon, and Otabek demands to have more of it.

* * *

Yuri would never admit that JJ is huge. Good thing JJ is a master of knowing what his partners are thinking. His face is flushed red. His eyes are blown wide. Even though Yuri impaled himself on JJ’s cock some time ago, his breathing still hasn’t returned to normal. JJ splays his palm wide across Yuri’s chest, and just feels the other man breathe.

“I told you.” JJ feels that he can risk teasing Yuri. At this point, there’s no way Yuri’s going to get up and leave. “To go slow Princess. I’m bigger than him.”

“Shut up asshole.” As if out of spite, Yuri grinds against him. Then, he raises his hips, all the way to the tip and lets himself fall back down the length of JJ’s cock.

JJ groans in response. Then, he returns his attention to Yuri. He pushes Yuri’s blonde locks away from his face. Then, he flashes a toothy grin at him. “That’s what JJ likes.”

“Can you just,-” Yuri works his hips in movements that might’ve worked against Otabek’s frame, but don’t work so smoothly against JJ’s. It’s clear in the awkward movements, and the labored breathing, and the pained little moans that Yuri is having a very hard time taking in all of JJ. “Shut up? For one minute, shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Make you?”

* * *

Isabella starts talking, and it makes him want to crawl under the covers and hide. This kind of thing might’ve worked on Leroy, but it certainly has no effect on him. “So good for me.” Which of course were followed by ridiculous things like, “So pretty on my cock,” and then she adds as an afterthought, “Beka.” She rarely used that name, and at times like this when he was raw and vulnerable, it was used against him. “You’re able take all of me. JJ couldn’t do that the first time.” Which Otabek almost doubts. He’s never met a man more hungry for cock than Leroy.

It doesn’t take long for Isabella to lead to his undoing. She rubs his perineum, and his balls. She gives minimal attention to his cock, but when she does she’s running her perfectly manicured nails along his length. Then, he’s spilling into her hand.

 

* * *

Plisetsky is clearly inexperienced in this area. He clamps his hand over JJ’s mouth and assumes that will be enough. But, there’s not much of anything that could stop JJ now. When his sweetheart keeps enveloping him in that impossibly tight heat, he has to tell him. Yuri has to know how tight and how hot his own body is. When Yuri meets him thrust for thrust, he has to tell Yuri about how good he really is. He needs to know. He knows for a fact that Otabek isn’t going to just tell him.

It isn’t until the hand clamps down harder on his mouth that he realized he was saying all of this out loud. “Shut up about Otabek. He actually likes me, unlike you.”

It only spurns him on. “Gonna come inside of you. That’s JJ style. Princess you feel so good. So good.”

JJ feels his mouth go dry. His mouth is pushed open by Yuri’s fingers, and cloth is pushed inside. It tastes musty like sweat and like sex. In that moment, he knows that Yuri is finally getting the hang of it. It’s easy to tell that it is Yuri’s bright pink panties crammed into his mouth.

Yuri tells him without mincing words, “You’re so fucking annoying,” and “You’d almost be okay if you could shut up,” and “but you fucking can’t because you’re dumb as fuck,” all the while relentlessly bouncing up and down on his cock. “If you ever say anything about Otabek ever again, I’m slapping the shit out of you.”

Then, as quickly as all of this began, JJ is twitching and spilling deep inside of Yuri. In the few hazy moments between pulling Yuri in for one last kiss, and Yuri pulling off of his spent cock, JJ makes a decision. If there is a next time, he’s bringing up Otabek.

* * *

Otabek took the “shortcut” that Isabella suggested on his way back to the rented room. He has difficulty finding the flat, as all the buildings in the complex look alike. Moreover, he’s not exactly sure which apartment number is their rented room. Along the way, it starts to rain. Lightly at first, and then, as soon as he finds their flat and nudges they key into the door, it begins to pour.

* * *

JJ takes the main road home instead of taking the shortcut through the service street and the back alley. That way he can pick up Isabella a small bouquet on the way home, and maybe just maybe some chocolates if the little shop on the corner was still open.

He couldn’t decide between lilies or roses, and he ended up getting caught in the rain.

* * *

“You didn’t save me any macarons.” Otabek lifts the empty box from the coffee table and allows several foil tinted wrappers spill out and onto the floor.

“Uh,” Yuri looks up from his phone for a moment. The blue glow highlights the dark purple marks on his neck nicely. It makes Otabek want to trace each one with his tongue and memorize the pattern. “Yeah, I told him to save you some, but he wouldn’t fucking listen.”

“Hm,” Otabek falls onto the sofa next to Yuri. He wraps his arms around him. For a moment, he does nothing but enjoy the feel of Yuri’s heat. He breathes in Yuri’s scent, detergent, and sugar, and sex.

“I like you better.”

Otabek smiles against Yuri’s skin. No one ever said they had to like one another equally. No one ever said they all had to spend time in one another’s beds. It’s just seemed to be how it fell.

“I prefer it that way,” Otabek responds. Otabek’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He extracts it slowly, making sure not to break contact with Yuri. It’s a photo of Jean covered in bruises that match the ones on Yuri’s neck. His phone vibrates again. There’s another, this one clearly taken by Isabella. Leroy’s back is covered in bright red scratches.

Otabek alternates between the two photos again and again. He can’t tear his eyes away from them. Then Yuri interrupts, “Do you like me better?”

* * *

“JJ used to think that he didn’t have a chance.” Of course Isabella is impressed by the flowers. She’s got them sitting in a vase on the coffee table.

“Why would you ever think that?” She plucks a piece of chocolate from the box and presses it to his lips.

JJ accepts the candy, chews thoroughly and then swallows. “The day before your sixteenth birthday. I knew you’d been studying all day. You were gonna spend your birthday taking exams. Awful really. I thought I’d buy you a cake and a coffee.”

“JJ,” her voice trembles with shame, but it isn’t like that. How could there be anything to be ashamed of?

“I saw you kissing Altin. I’m not upset. I have you now.” With a single digit, he traces the love bites on her neck. It’s usually never Altin’s style to leave a lot of marks. It’s clear that they’re there for him to see. He could return the favor.

He asks Isabella to take a photo of his neck. Then his back. After she takes the photos, he sends them to Altin, and then plays with his phone while he waits for a response. Isabella’s voice is soft, as if she isn’t sure she even wants to ask the question. “Do I have you?”

 

 


End file.
